


Seasons of Love

by Missy_dee811



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Time Skips, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 17:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy_dee811/pseuds/Missy_dee811
Summary: Seasons change, people don't. Maybe Mr. Right isn't Mr. Right Now.





	Seasons of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous had requested Steve/Tony and the following prompt:
> 
> “Isn’t it time we both stopped pretending we make each other happy?”
> 
> It ended up being happier than I had thought.

It was autumn.

The leaves were falling slowly. Steve knew, in a day or two, most of trees would be bare, awaiting the start of the long winter. Every winter since he had awoken had felt longer and colder than the preceding one. Perhaps he was more in tune with the cold air drumming southward from the tundra to the north. Perhaps he was more familiar with its engulfing tendrils, decades after he was submerged. 

Perhaps he had grown cold and the winter wind whispered to him a truth he refused to accept but knew he would have to sooner or later. 

As with the falling leaves, sooner or later his feelings would bare themselves and he wouldn’t be able to hide in the shade when the time came.

For the time being, he held his hand and promised himself he wouldn’t be the chill in the air this time. He promised himself, for the moment, he would go with the flow. He wouldn’t call upon the currents running deep and would let him drift along the surface contentedly. 

It was the least he could do. 

As with the falling leaves, sooner or later his feelings would bare themselves and he would be left gasping for breath as the waves drove him out to sea.

The winter came and with it the fights he knew they could’ve avoided.

 _I won’t be able to make dinner tonight_  he’d write and lounge on the sofa. He’d toss his head back and change the channel until he found a game he could watch. 

Days later he would receive a short, snappy reply.  _Don’t wait up for me_. Where once he’d be upset, confused even. Now, he felt only relief. Perhaps tonight would be a quiet night.

The currents grew stronger as the days turned into weeks, as the snow melted and the first crocuses bloomed. 

Yellow.

_I was your friend once. Where have you been?_

The spring arrived, as it always did in the city, slowly and then all at once. He felt that rush of warmth as the sun lingered just a bit longer, as the clouds moved just a little faster, and the blue of the early April skies reminded him so much of the man he loved.

Did he still love him? Was that a question he was supposed to ask?

They were walking hand in hand, their eyes darting away, in different directions, an echo of what they were thinking and all the things they weren’t saying. They sat before each other, in a quiet shop, keenly aware of the prying eyes that would grow tired of the inaction and would turn back to their matters. Wasn’t that what always happened? Avoid what needs to be discussed, ignore the pressing questions, pretend things weren’t crumbling.

Rome didn’t fall in a day, the sea didn’t entomb him overnight.

Things happened slowly.

“How have you been,” asked Tony. He seemed composed and Steve hated that he knew he was hurting and couldn’t fathom how to fix it, or worse yet, couldn’t bring himself to care.

He held his cappuccino in both hands but didn’t lift it off the table, as if it grounded him. “I know things haven’t been the same...” He trailed off, awaiting a reply or reaction from Steve.

Ungraciously, Steve cut in just as he was about to speak. “We need to talk.”

“I’m listening, Steve.”

“Isn’t it time we both stopped pretending we make each other happy?”

Perhaps he had said it louder than he intended. Perhaps he had said it at an inopportune time when the others were tuned into the conversation. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed how quiet the coffee shop was until he spoke, too caught up in the waves crashing.

_Erosion may be a necessary part but you didn’t have to cut into him like this._

Tony smiled, sadly. Steve could admire this about him: how the world around him could be breaking and he would still manage to seem impervious. 

“Steve,” Tony said, imploringly, “I wasn’t pretending but now, it seems obvious, you were.”

“No. Not at first.”

“Oh, of course not. I could tell though, I just...”

“Don’t try to justify this for me.”

“Fine, I’ll just sit here sipping this coffee while you break my heart,” an exasperated Tony replied.

Steve moved to speak when Tony raised his hand. 

“Please don’t tell me you didn’t mean to hurt me, Steve. Please save that lecture for someone else. You always knew you’d hurt me, the question was when. It’s fine though. Perhaps you didn’t, and well... I guess I’ll have to deal with that on my own...but I enjoyed this. I just knew you didn’t, at least not as of late. If I pressed the issue, the cave walls would collapse. I don’t know what I was hoping for...if anything at all. Just... Just let me have this moment. Let me have this goodbye.”

He held the cup tighter than before, hoping the concoction would warm him. 

When the door opened, Steve could feel the draft, as if confirming he was the chill in the wind. 

“Tony, this doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

“Yes, it does. If I don’t make you happy, why are you here? What do you gain from this? Is tormenting me really your goal? I had thought more of you. I didn’t think you enjoyed seeing me miserable. Perhaps I was wrong about you.”

“Tony, stop. You know that’s not true.”

“Do I? I thought you loved me, Steve, and that was a lie. I can’t be confident I know the truth anymore.” He scoffed. “This was a bad idea. This whole thing was a terrible idea. I waited so long. I waited for you. Serves me right.”

Steve reached out to touch him. Tony watched his fingers as they circled his wrist. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did.”

“But I did,” echoed Steve.

“I think we should leave,” said Tony. Steve nodded and followed him out. Once outside, Tony zipped up his jacket and turned to face Steve.

Tony leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I only wanted you to be happy. I’m sorry.”

Steve pulled him in for a hug and felt Tony melt beside him. “I know. I’m sorry, too.” He kissed his forehead and thumbed his cheek. He could see the tears welling up in his eyes. “Please, don’t cry,” said Steve.

“Why, is that too much for you?”

“No, you were never too much.”

“Sure thing, Rogers,” said Tony. 

The second the words were out; Steve knew they were done. He thought back to all the months they had spent together, long before things went sour. He couldn’t recall a single time Tony had called him by his last name. 

Tony smiled wryly before turning and walking away.

Steve watched the trees across the street. His eyes lingered on the petals still waiting to bloom. The latecomers. 

_Maybe happiness will come to us._

_Maybe we can be an_ us _some time down the line._

The waves crashed upon the shore but the jagged rocks and their sharp edges had long since faded. The fine quartz sand they left behind felt smooth to the touch. 

Tony turned onto his back and looked up at the sun. Smiling beside him, Steve turned his head. Facing him he said, “Do I make you happy?”

“Yes. You do,” said Tony before leaning in to kiss him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can reblog this [post](http://viudanegraaa.tumblr.com/post/161226496721/isnt-it-time-we-both-stopped-pretending-we-make) on Tumblr and follow me for more bittersweet angst.


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